The Story of Nito
by Elasel Nevar
Summary: A man, long forgotten in Skyrim's past, rises just as Skyrim's darkest days approach.  However, as he moves about, he learns there's something dangerous about Skyrim besides the re-emergence of dragons.  Rated T because I'd rather be safe than sorry.
1. Then and Now

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, but I do own a legal copy of the game, which is how I can actually write a story about it. I make no money from this. This is strictly for entertainment, as well as for helping me improve my writing ability.  
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**Author's Note:** So I've been playing with a Skeleton character and I thought, "Hey! I can make fanfiction out of this crap!" So I did. Please review and tell me what could be improved upon.

"Stand your ground!" Nito called out to the skeletons assigned under him with a raspy voice, as they braced the gates of Solitude against the combined force of their lady's enemies. The battering ram smashed into the gate repeatedly, and while they gave no quarter, the gate staying firmly shut, Nito saw the wood was going to break, and the gate would fall eventually. Cursing, he drew his silver blade from its scabbard and commanded "Archers on the walls! The gate will fall! Turn your attention inside the wall! Shoot the humans as they pour in!"

The skeletal archers that lined the walls gave no verbal response, instead turning to do as they were told, knocking their arrows. Five more knocks on the gate and the head of the siege weapon broke through the gate, the giant bronze goat head peeking into the insides of Solitude. That was it. They had to make their stand here. Nito cursed some more and yelled "Footmen! Pull back! Prepare for combat in the city!"

The skeletons holding back the gate did just that, allowing the gate to burst open even as they drew their swords. The attacking Nords seemed surprised by the gate's sudden opening, staring in surprise as an army of skeletons retreated from them. They recovered quickly, however, and surged into the city like a horde of barbarians, only to be put down as a volley of arrows struck them from the back.

Nito was pleased. He doubted he could hold all of these savages with his forces, but any deaths he claimed in the name of the Wolf Queen were a boon to him! His skeletal hand reached to a pack slung around his hip bone, and pulled out a flask filled with green liquid. He hurled the toxic concoction into the ground, causing a foul, green smoke to fill the area. Nords began to fall to their knees left and right, choking from the toxic air.

"Spearmen, forward!" he commanded, causing skeletons with large spears, likely twice their height, to move forward, skewing the weakened Nords. The army of Potema's enemies outnumbered them, but their numbers meant nothing with this chokepoint. The body count began to escalate, as Nords rushed in to their deaths. It became difficult for enemy infantry to move in because of all the bodies on the floor, but Nito's spearmen simply kept stabbing, increasing the death count. Perhaps they could hold the entire army, after all.

Suddenly, there was a bright yellow flash, and Nito's forces dropped their weapons and began to scatter. Looking up, he saw an agent of the god Stendarr was standing in the gateway, a massive warhammer in one hand, a spell in the other. Nito cursed. He'd forgotten about _them._ Holy flames flew from the man's hand, aimed at the only skeleton that hadn't fled- namely, Nito. He was simply too strong for Restoration magic to demoralize him. Using his light body to his advantage, Nito dodged the holy fire with ease, before leaping at the agent of Stendarr from the side.

"You're a springy one, aren't ya?" the hooded man asked, swinging his hammer to catch Nito, but the skeleton was too quick, leaning down to land on the ground before he could collide with the hammer. He took advantage of the paladin or vigilant or whatever they called themselves' surprise, slashing with the silver blade at the man's lightly-armored gut, making the man bleed as Nito darted away.

"Why you little-!" the man grunted, using a Fast Healing spell on himself to seal the wound.

Nito was pleased with his minor victory, but he knew he could not hold out against all of the forces streaming through the gate, now that their position had been broken. He climbed up the side of a stone house, perching on the roof as he watched the dead Nords slowly rise to Queen Potema's service. The range at which she could raise dead was astounding.

He muttered yet more curses when he saw the zombies destroyed by holy fire, however. If they were to have a chance to win here, that man needed to die. Nito leaped from rooftop to rooftop, his leather cloak flapping in the wind. It was the only thing that distinguished him from the thousands of others in Potema's army of dead.

Peering down, it was obvious from what he saw that the paladin was looking for him, but had lost sight of him amid the mass reanimation the Wolf Queen had performed. Nords poured in through the empty streets, the mass of Potema's forces in the castle courtyard. Only Nito's detachment had been deployed here, as he proved more effective away from Potema's vampiric generals, whom he despised. He rummaged through his pack for a vial with black liquid in it- a mix of Imp Stool, Deathbell and Canis Root, if he was not mistaken, and coated his blade with it. He waited as the paladin scanned the ground for him, likely unaware that the skeleton was so agile.

He held a firm grip on the poisoned blade and jumped down as the paladin passed under him, jamming his blade into the nape of the man's neck. If the blow didn't kill him, the poison would. He pulled it out with some difficulty, as his blade was made for cutting rather than thrusting, but it did the trick. Pleased with himself, Nito failed to notice the bolt of lightning that flew towards him until it was too late. The current struck him and he lost consciousness, his service to Potema at an end. He could only hope that he'd done enough.

**-Hundreds of years later-**

He opened his eyes to a bleach-colored ground, his eyesight strong even in the dark of night. Where was he now? The sloping ground told him he was on top of a hill, and that he was face down on a stone floor that seemed out of place among all the grass and earth. The sound that fell to him from above told him exactly where he was, however.

"Arise, and serve me!" the necromancer Vaiya Varatina commanded to the skeletons she'd raised by the power of the Ritual standing stone. The Dunmer had been at it for days, eager to master the technique of controlling hordes of the dead. She aimed to surpass the great necromancers of old, like the dreaded Wolf Queen who had the power to rule Tamriel, or even the King of Worms who eluded capture in an era that outlawed the practice.

Such a foolish living she was. Of course, Nito did indeed rise from the ground and wield the crude mace he was provided. The Ritual power bound his body, whatever was left of it, to her will. This was the... seventh attempt? The foolish girl had been raising him and nearby skeletons in a vain attempt to raise her competence with necromancy. Did she not realize that the power keeping them up was not her own? A weak necromancer would not have been able to command him so easily, let alone with others. This "training" of hers would yield no fruit, regardless of how much she tried.

Quite frankly, Nito had served under the legendary Potema as part of her honor guard. He was far above the regular stock of skeletons. He doubted this one could even tell. Still, weak as she was, her concentration and preparations were perfect. There was no opening for him to break her hold over him. He needed something from the outside to help him. He doubted Queen Potema was coming back, though. The last time he'd been raised successfully was when he was slain again at the siege of Solitude. He had no idea how he'd even ended up here. He could tell it was still probably Skyrim, at least. Perhaps to the south of Solitude? How long had it been? For him to have a new necromancer, it meant that Potema was likely dead. He always did suggest she ascend to lichdom, but she always shrugged him off. Oh, well. Spilled milk.

"March!" the necromancer commanded, and Nito felt his bones compelled to make ridiculously exaggerated marching movements, with mace in hand. Gazing at his fellow skeletons, he found they seemed to be quite weak, and possibly stupid. They were like lifeless puppets, really, being manipulated by the Ritual Stone's power. Several minutes passed, and he felt the binding weaken. He felt a tugging from all around as he was called away, the power wearing off for the day.

As he lay floating in the omnipresent darkness, the afterlife of the damned such as he, the skeleton began to ponder what he would do if he ever broke free of the necromancer. He certainly wasn't going back here. He'd been stuck here for far too long. No. He would certainly set out. Perhaps there were powerful necromancers in the era who could use his power. Besides any physical prowess he may have possessed, Nito knew a powerful technique of the long-lost Mysticism school of magic. Where most practitioners of the art were limited to using the souls of they captured for enchanting (which eventually made people shift focus from Mysticism to just Enchanting), he could use these souls, inheriting some abilities of their owners. He could take the soul of a dying Nord and gain their resistance to the bitter cold. Not that he needed it, of course, seeing as how he could feel no cold. Dunmer fire resistance was a far better choice. He was limited to ingesting one soul at a time, however, and his soul gems where he kept the rest had long since disappeared. He had no idea who'd taken them, but he cared not. There were plenty enough specimens for him to recover his collection.

The familiar tugging at his essence told him a day had passed, and the Ritual was being conducted again. His eyes opened to the same scene, bleached of color by his night eyes. He caught side of the Dunmer necromancer to his left, chanting furiously, and to his surprise, something else, as well. A creature he'd never seen before was circling the skies above the necromancer, which likely explained her haste to raise him. Her panic would be her undoing, however, as Nito did the one thing he was capable of doing before his body was controlled.

"Boo!" a gravelly voice came from nowhere, startling the necromancer. What was it now? As if she wasn't distracted enough by the dragon flying overhead! Looking around, she noticed one of the skeletons glaring up at her with its glowing, blue eyes.

"What are you staring at?" the voice came again, as the skeleton's jaw opened and closed.

"Y-you can talk!" the necromancer exclaimed, realizing far too late that she had accidentally interrupted her chant.

"It seems I can also trick foolish upstart necromancers into releasing me!" the skeleton said in maniacal glee as it pushed itself up from the ground. Desperately, Vaiya shot a simple Raise Zombie spell at the nearest other skeleton. It rose to attention, brandishing an ancient greatsword.

The talking skeleton merely grabbed the other's skull and snapped it off of the other's neck with a single motion. Vaiya stared in horror as the skeleton she'd raised crumbled to dust, the spell undone.

Nito was quite satisfied now. Whatever that flying creature had been, he was indebted to it. Perhaps he would make its soul the centerpiece of his new collection. The necromancer girl was trembling now, the shaking visible even under her thick black, hooded robes. He reached out a bony hand and strangled her, despite her pleas of "No! Stop! Have mercy!"

He could have snapped her neck easily, but he decided that her repeated misuse of his strength deserved punishment. The girl's dark face became even darker as she suffered from lack of air. When it looked like she was about to die, he loosened his grip on her and asked, "What age is it? Where is the Wolf Queen?"

"The Wolf Queen?" she asked, seemingly confused. He tightened his grip again to ensure cooperation, releasing only to hear her speak.

"S-she died hundreds of years ago!" she answered, "Even the Septim bloodline is long gone!"

"Interesting," Nito commented casually, as if he wasn't literally holding her life in his hand, "Who rules now?"

"Depends on who you ask," she said, struggling to breathe, "Either the emperor, Meade, or the high king!"

"Thank you, my dear, you have been most helpful," he said somberly.

"Will you let me go?" she pleaded, tears forming in her red eyes.

"Oh, certainly. You may go," Nito answered, "...in peace."

The necromancer died with a smile on her face, thinking the skeleton was about to let her go. The realization that he was going to snap her neck in half came a bit late, it seemed. He unfurled his hand, as though waiting for something to be dropped into it. A green smoke seemed to drift from her mouth to his outstretched palm, crystallizing into a small green orb, which he promptly swallowed, disappearing into his skull. He eyed her robes for a second. He gently peeled them off of her and donned them, leaving her in a state similar to how she'd found him. He doubted people of this age would be comfortable with a masterless skeleton walking around, after all. He needed to stay incognito for a little while, at least.

He touched the Ritual Stone, and focused its power on himself, prolonging his stay in the mortal realm. Its power was limited, however, and even with it only supporting one skeleton, Nito had at most a little less than a day. He required a necromancer with a permanent binding spell to stay indefinitely. Thankfully, the time he'd spent around necromancers allowed him to sense how versed they were in the art. He sensed a strong aura coming from a nearby ruined keep, and decided to follow that.

He was about to leave, but then a thunderous roar overhead reminded him he was not yet alone. The flying creature was swooping down now, maw open. Was it trying to eat him? To his surprise, the creature shot a very strong blast of frost at him, the force staggering him a little.

"It can wield magic?" he mused, "No, not magic. The feeling is different."

The flying creature dropped to the ground before him, inhaling to expel more of its cold breath. Little good that would do it, seeing as how Nito was immune to all but the coldest frost spells. Now that Nito was aware of its little trick, he was able to brace himself for the force of it, completely unbothered by the cold. He endured through it as if he were walking through a thick gust, the howling wind slowing him but otherwise leaving him unscathed.

"Not very smart, are you?" he mocked, having nearly passed completely through the icy blast.

The creature responded in a language that Nito could not understand. What was this thing and where did it come from? He decided that information could wait, grabbing hold of the crude mace on the ground. As much as he hated blunt weapons, preferring a sharp blade in his hand, this was an emergency, and he doubted his fists would do much to it. His light body allowed him to leap onto the creature's head. The creature began shaking its head to dislodge the skeleton, but Nito held on with both legs and his left arm.

Nito then began to bludgeon the creature's eyes, which he believed would be as soft as any other creature's. His hypothesis was proven correct when blood splatted from the giant reptile's eye sockets, now bloody mounds as it thrashed and roared in pain. Now blind, Nito doubted it would put up much more of a fight. He leaped off of its face and onto its back, bashing the back of the creature's head. It was a low-quality weapon, but enough to harm it. The creature continued to jerk in pain, desperate to get the skeleton off of it, but Nito was dextrous enough to stay on until the creature eventually fell, a crack on the scales on back of its head.

"More bark than bite," Nito said, throwing the rusty mace nonchalantly to the side. He then jumped down to inspect the beast. It was obviously large, and seemed a natural predator with its big claws and mouth. The scales that covered its body seemed strong enough to turn away weaker blades. Of course, the corpse did not hold Nito's attention for long as he proceeded to its mouth and extended his hand, prepared to extract its soul.

An orange light escaped the creature's jaws and seemed to flow into his hand, forming a bright, orange orb that seemed to be aflame. That was odd. He'd never seen an orange soul before. He spat the Dunmer necromancer's soul into his other hand before ingesting the strange creature's. Words he could not recognize filled his head. Had he been mortal, it might have hurt. He could make out the word "Force," but the other two seemed blurry to him.

He shrugged it off and decided the soul was useless. Spitting it back out, the orange soul seemed to burn away, as if it had been spent. "What was that about?" he thought out loud as he swallowed the Dunmer's soul once again.

The whole matter left Nito quite confused, so he left the area and headed towards the keep, mindful of his limited time on this plane.

**Author Talking Yet Again:**

So that was the first chapter of Nito's travels through Skyrim. Again, please provide feedback if it's not too much of a bother, and if you have questions, feel free to ask! For those not in the know, you can easily find info on Potema by searching the net. In short, she was a powerful necromancer and member of the Septim bloodline, long ago. Again, the lore is out there, people. I'd rather not discuss it in length.


	2. An Idea Forms

**Author's Note: Hello, readers! This was supposed to be up yesterday, but then I took... Nito and actually played the game. Apologies for that. Don't expect any regularity in how I upload. I just put these up as my time allows. Please read, enjoy if you want, and review! **

There were several upsides to being dead. You never got hungry or thirsty, never got sick or needed rest. Surely, people could see the appeal in being undead or having an undead army. Still, people always went on about how the dead were sacred and how Arkay was going to lose it if you messed with the dead. In contrast, those Namira worshippers weren't much better. Not that they bothered skeletons, of course. No meat left.

Here Nito was in a keep where he thought the people would be more accepting of a dead man walking. What did they do when they saw him? They shot at him! With fire! Nito could only take so much after being bothered by that flying creature from before. He was once among Potema's generals, for crying out loud! Of course, no one ever did remember him. People were always going on and on about her vampire generals, but nobody remembered the rest of them. Sure, vampires weren't under her direct control, which was a testament to the respect she enjoyed, but then, most of her army wasn't. She wouldn't have needed commanders on the field if she manually controlled every single corpse on the field of battle, after all.

Reminiscence was something best done when you weren't under attack, however, and Nito had to cut his reverie short. The Dunmer fire resistance meant he could just walk through the flames like they were nothing, and not even the combined novice fire mage and summoned flame atronach could faze the skeleton. He descended on the retreating fire mage with ease, smashing the Breton's face into the ground with a satisfying crack. The fire atronach was then banished to Oblivion, her anchor to the mortal ream destroyed.

He scanned the keep's exterior. It was a rather shabby castle, likely long abandoned by its rightful owners. He could tell from the presence of necromantic energy inside that the keep had been occupied by necromancers. Further inspection of the premises showed that the keep actually had two entrances. One was apparently the main door, while the other seemed to lead to a basement of sorts. Now, Nito was never one to take enemies on head-first. He'd left that sort of thing to the other, less-intelligent generals of Potema. Nito was always that one skeleton that snuck up behind your army and scatter toxic gas in the middle of your forces, so this choice wasn't much of a choice at all.

The darkness of the Fellglow Keep Dungeon suited Nito perfectly. His vision in darkness was perfect, while the necromancers were merely human… and elf, probably. Either way, their night vision was terrible compared to his. The first room he entered had a novice necromancer and ice mage. The ice mage could do no real harm to him, and the necromancer was easily dealt with once you broke his neck instead of his servants', which was the first thing he did when he ran in. As before, he grabbed the remaining mage's neck and made polite inquiry.

"Where is the strongest necromancer in this keep?" he rasped.

"You can talk!" the ice mage blurted out, which only made Nito's grip tighten, and the mage's body stiffened, saying "Upstairs!"

"What is imprisoned down here, then?" Nito pressed.

"Wolves and vampires!" he confessed without hesitation. How cowardly these humans were in the face of death.

"Vampires?" Nito repeated, intrigued. It was true he had no love for their kind, but he wasn't so high-strung that he would ignore potential allies.

"Yeah! Starved mid-level ones!" the captive said.

"Where?"

"That way!" the mage pointed to a side corridor.

Nito dragged the captured mage by the scruff of his neck, his back scraping against the stone floor. He was screaming for help, but there really was nothing mages could do to harm him. They entered a room with 3 cages, where Nito saw there were indeed 3 female vampires locked in each one. There were also two more mages in there. He threw his prisoner at the other mages, knocking them all to the floor. Nito then grabbed a nearby iron mace and smashed the locks open on all three cages in quick succession. As before, he tossed the used weapon aside without hesitation. How he hated blunt weapons.

The famished blood-drinkers hurried out of their cages with inhuman speed, as to be expected of starved vampires, and feasted upon the blood of the mages, whose screams filled the chamber. Nito just watched in amusement. The next mage that came in to help was quickly taken down with an Ice Spike before being eaten. Vampires had their uses, as much as he despised them from past experience.

"Our thanks," said one of the vampires, who was clad in leather armor with hair that reached to her waist. It was difficult to tell the color with Nito's vision, however. She moved as if to go further in, likely for cold vengeance.

"Wait," said Nito, to their surprise, "Let us go together."

"What do you want here?" hissed another vampire, slightly larger and wearing fur armor. Her hair was shorter, and seemed bright to Nito. It was probably blonde. She noted how he seemed ticked by her question and quickly amended, "Do not mistake my curiosity for lack of gratitude, but you are an odd sight in this place."

"I seek a master necromancer," he rasped in response, "or at least one able to permanently bind me to this realm."

"You are without a master?" the last vampire asked. She was smaller than the other two, with shoulder-length hair. The tint seemed similar to the first one's, but Nito could not be sure. This last vampire was clad in a dark suit with a skull on it. It was difficult to make out the exact colors.

"Indeed, and I'd like things to remain that way," he said, "unless you happen to know where I can find a necromancer at least as powerful as the Wolf Queen?"

"A renegade you will remain, then," the first vampire spoke again, "the art of necromancy may be legal again, but Skyrim is a land of taboos and prejudice. The last great necromancer was Mannimarco in Cyrodiil, and he is long dead."

"That's a pity," he muttered, as an idea formed in his head, "What manner of undead prowl the shadows of this cold land? Vampires and skeletons are obvious. Have any ascended to lichdom?"

"None, to my knowledge," answered the vampire, which was disappointing.

"What about zombies?" he asked, "Surely, the Nords still preserve their dead?"

"No luck there," the largest of the three said ruefully, "We Nords preserve our dead, alright, and there are thousands of corpses in the burial grounds, but these draugr are animated by forces unknown to us. They are never friendly."

Nito was starting to see why there were so few great necromancers in this land and age. The art was far more difficult to practice than it had been before, despite how practitioners were not strictly locked up or slain upon discovery. Still, surely, at the very least, someone was strong enough to bind him to the mortal realm more permanently. The thought had occurred to him, that without the Wolf Queen, he was likely the most intelligent from her faction. How difficult could it be, then, for him to turn this frozen land into a lifeless waste where his word would be law? The Queen had used her army as a means to an end, but Nito would do better than she did. Yet, even as his thoughts turned to ones of grandeur, the thought of opposition entered his mind. In particular, his thoughts drifted to the dead creature on the plains of Whiterun.

"One final thing," he paused, second-guessing if he should ask but ultimately deciding to, "What manner of creature was that outside? It was a giant lizard that breathed frost as it soared through the sky."

"You saw a dragon, then?" the first vampire asked, "Horrid creatures. Be glad the one you fled from breathed ice and not fire."

"You misunderstand," he said, taking offense at her assumption, "This dragon lies dead on the fields outside, its remains like a rock in the middle of the grass.

"You slew it?" the Nord asked in shock, "Could you be Dragonborn?"

"What in Oblivion is Dragonborn?" the skeleton asked. He would've scratched his head if he had skin.

"One born with the blood of dragons," she explained, "It is an old legend among my people."

"Among Nords you mean?" Nito asked. All of the human races looked alike to him, besides the obvious one, Redguard. Beyond that, though, their skin was not all that different, and you could never say that height was an absolute measure. That said, Nito actually had no idea what he once was, nor did he care.

"Indeed," she said proudly.

"And you two?" he decided he may as well file the information away for later. It was good to have an idea about what your companions could do.

"We are Imperials," said the first one, "I am Dark and this is Shroud, my younger sister."

"I am Chill," supplied the Nord.

What was it with the children of the night and their nicknames? He wondered why they supplied him with unasked information, but he would commit it to memory all the same. Perhaps it was his feat of slaying a dragon that made them revere him? Whatever the case, he knew he may as well mention his own name, saying "I am referred to as Nito."

"Nice to meet you, Nito," Dark bowed slightly.

"If we are done, I require the services of a masterful necromancer," Nito reminded them.

"There may be one here," Chill offered, "The head necromancer subdued us by setting a risen werewolf upon us. Surely such a feat requires talent in necromancy."

"Perhaps," Nito considered, "Did this necromancer raise a corpse before your eyes or was it raised when you fought?"

"It was raised," Shroud said, "The beast ambushed us from behind."

"You are certain it was raised from death?" Nito asked. He wasn't really one who was wary of risk, but he tried to keep it minimal when he could.

"It certainly smelled the part of a carcass," Chill commented.

"Very well," Nito made his decision, "Let us find this necromancer. I need this leader alive. Slay the rest."

"What of their thrall?" asked Chill, a hint of worry in her tone, "A werewolf, dead or no, is quite the adversary."

A foolish question, that was. If a dragon of legend could not best him, what chance did a filthy mongrel have? He gave her the skeletal equivalent of a scathing glare for a few seconds, but realized he had little effect due to the lack of face muscles and having blue flames for eyes. Sighing, he said "You do realize I just killed a dragon, yes?"

"Of course, Nito," she said a little quickly.

This was why vampires vexed Nito. They were powerful forms of undead, certainly, but they simply retained far too much of their humanity for his liking. Powerful, if narcissistic master vampires were fine, but he derived no satisfaction chatting with these far lesser beings.

The odd party passed through a few more rooms and hallways until they came upon a door that seemed to lead into the main keep. Nito stalked across to it, making creaking noises as he went. It was no surprise, then, that when he opened the door, a sharp ice spike buried itself in his ribcage. He glanced at it casually, noting how it had only wedged a third of itself in. He then stared at the caster, an adept frost mage, and said "Pathetic," his hand already moving.

Nito rushed forward. He may have been a bad sneak, with how his bones creaked as he moved, but he was so light without flesh that he could move as quickly as any assassin, running up to the spellcaster, who was human, and bashing her skull with his bony fist, a loud crack resounding before she fell face down on the floor. A fire mage was next, the pale shade of a man bathing him in a stream of flames. He raised a ward in his left hand, only small enough to actually shield him, giving the impression he was being burned. He would strike once the mage thought he'd had enough.

The opportunity never came, however, as the man was beset upon by three vampires, Dark on his neck while the others each took a shoulder, the man's flames dying out as his very life was consumed. Nito grinned inside, unable to actually do so without skin. Perhaps they had uses, after all. He was shaken out of his thoughts, however, when something bit his leg. Looking down, he frowned internally when he realized it had been a wolf familiar.

Enraged, he jammed his elbow into the back of the spirit's head, forcing it back to wherever spirits were conjured from. He found its summoner standing on an elevated platform, likely where members of import stood to address the lesser mages. If that was so, then this conjurer might be able to bind him.

He darted to the conjurer, quick as always, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and asked "How deep into conjuration are you?"

"A-adept!" the man struggled for air as he dangled above the ground.

"Can you cast permanent binding spells?" Nito asked, though he very much doubted it.

"N-no!" the man said, pleadingly, "I can barely summon Dremora for a few minutes!"

"Then I've no use for you," Nito said, slamming the back of the man's head hard into the brick wall, resulting in a satisfying crack as the man went limp.

"Come," Nito commanded. He was only mildly surprised when the vampires obediently followed his directive.

That was when Nito felt it: the presence of a skilled necromancer. Whoever it was, the spellcaster had likely heard the racket and come to investigate. Nito would have grinned if he could. The only other door in the chamber flew open as a werewolf rushed in, straight for the vampires. The fool probably thought the vampires were his necromancers, and targeted them first.

Of course, he couldn't very well let them perish now, could he? He jumped in front of the werewolf and attempted to wrestle it down, but the larger creature was just as strong, if not stronger than he was, and they were locked together, the werewolf having the advantage of being able to snap at him with its jaws. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold it forever, so he asked "Do you three need an invitation or something?"

"Our apologies, lord!" replied Shroud, and Nito admitted he found some satisfaction in that. It had been hundreds of years since he'd been called "lord." It was true he didn't really feel the hundreds of years passing, but he was pleased all the same.

The three made quick work of the werewolf, turning it into an icy pincushion. It felt no pain, of course, but they'd wedged enough spikes into it to render its muscles immovable. Nito then finished the job by pulling out a spike and jamming it into the undead beast's neck, making it nearly headless. The neck was so thick that he couldn't quite get a clean decapitation. It was enough to get the body unbound from its necromancer, however, as it turned to ash.

"Bravo!" came a haughty female voice from the door. The master necromancer was standing in the doorway, leaning against part of the door. He could tell it was her from the energy she emitted. She wore a concealing hood that obscured her face, and black robes that showcased her profession with a skull marking.

"How foolish of me to think those vampires were your masters," she said, arms remaining folded, "They seemed to lack such power when we captured them two weeks ago. Still, it was even more unlikely to find such a powerful, renegade skeleton."

"Indeed," Nito could only agree. It was clever of her to bait them into revealing information to her using the werewolf. Of course, little good that would do her now that her werewolf thrall was dust. Still, it was best not to overextend himself.

"I'm surprised you haven't charged at me," she smirked, looking up. It was obvious from what little she revealed that she was a Redguard. Her skin was dark, but she was obviously not Dunmer, even with Nito's bleached vision.

"You take me for a fool?" Nito asked, pointing at the flame rune that had been drawn on the floor. She must have done it when the werewolf attacked them. The rune stood out somewhat, but since it didn't glow, it was still possible to miss it. He was glad he didn't.

"I was hoping you were, actually," she shrugged, finally uncrossing her arms, "Would have made it so much easier. Still, the challenge is welcome."

She shot a blue light from her hands, aimed at the fallen mages. The fire mage and the conjurer rose, despite how their heads were bent sideways. The fire mage began to pelt Nito with firebolts, which he easily blocked with a ward. He then raised an open palm into the air and said, "Give me a weapon!"

He wondered if they knew what he meant, but was satisfied when the younger imperial shot an ice spike into the air above his outstretched hand. He dexterously grabbed hold of it, and used the sharp object to stab the fire mage where his shoulders were connected to his arms. One arm fell off cleanly, but the other remained connected by a bit of skin, blood pouring for a few seconds before the body disintegrated.

Nito glanced at the Redguard necromancer, but realized she was smiling. He looked for the conjurer and saw he was at a summoning circle that he hadn't noticed before. It was surrounded by four soul gems, and something was clearly appearing in the center of it.

Nito became frustrated when the figure that emerged from the circle was a man far larger than any of the civilized races. He wore black armor witch cracks that glowed bright orange. His face was darker than any Dunmer's, covered in red markings. Four horns protruded from his head, and a greatsword was strapped to his back. This was such an annoyance.

The Dremora lord quickly brandished his massive weapon, which ignited the moment it was unsheathed. It rushed towards Nito, its sword now a pillar of fire. Nito raised a ward in each hand, dual-casting to form a transparent wall between him and the intimidating daedra, effectively blocking its blows. Behind it, the three vampires tore the risen conjurer apart until he became ash. To Nito's disappointment, the Dremora Lord did not vanish.

"What manner of sorcery is this?" asked Chill, now pelting the Dremora lord with ice spikes, which were unable to pierce his daedric armor.

"So you excel in both necromancy and conjuration, do you…" Nito stated more than he asked, still keeping the daedra at bay with his wards.

"I'm multi-talented," the redguard woman said calmly, now leaning against the wall again.

"Perhaps you would do me a favor and give me a permanent binding, then," said Nito, chuckling. It sounded odd with his raspy voice, however.

"That depends. Would you be willing to serve?" she inquired, rubbing her chin.

"That depends. What do you plan to do with your powers?" Nito countered.

"Not much, really," she answered, "I'll be in hiding until the civil war is over, preferably after the dragons go extinct again."

"You waste your potential," Nito said casually, despite the Dremora lord still pounding away at his barrier, "You could be the new Wolf Queen."

"And die at the hands of the people like she did?" the woman snorted, "Fat chance."

"In that case, I must decline your offer," Nito said, "But you will still cast the spell on me."

"And why would I do that?" she asked, seemingly amused by what she thought was a foolhardy skeleton.

Nito didn't bother to answer with words. Instead, he dropped his wards as the Dremora put his weight behind a single swing. The sword stabbed nothing but air, however, Nito having ducked and darted behind the creature. He then pushed the creature, taking advantage of the Dremora's mistake, and making the daedra fall flat on his face. Nito stepped on the demon's hand, making him release the greatsword, which Nito picked up and used to cut daedra's head right off. All of this happened in less than ten seconds.

He then approached the Redguard woman, who was in shock over how quickly the tide had turned. Everything would have gone smoothly, had the skeleton not forgotten one thing in the heat of the moment. The next step he took caused an explosion that resounded through the keep, the forgotten flame rune delivering its payload.

**Next chapter's almost done. **


	3. Revelation

**Author's Note: Lacks-a-name, this chapter will probably answer at least one question you asked. I'd reply if I could, but the system prevents it. Also, I tried to spellcheck this, but it's a bit longer than what I usually write, so it's not exactly easy.**

A bright flash and loud boom accompanied Nito's bones flying through room, scattered. The vampires behind him gasped in shock, finding it hard to believe that Nito had been dismantled so easily. They swore as they shot ice spikes at the Redguard, who summoned a frost atronach to shield herself, blocking the spikes entirely.

The three of them cursed, falling back to the far side of the room as the icy daedra stomped towards them. There wasn't much they could do against such an opponent. Their only destruction spells were of the frost element, and this creature had no blood for them to drain. Everything seemed rather dire for them. However, from a corner in the room, where Nito's skull had been flung to, a voice began to speak.

"I can't believe I forgot about that. Well played, girl!" came the raspy voice, "I think I'll take your soul after this, whether or not you bind me!"

"How?" the Redguard demanded, "No! This is some sort of trick! You cannot possibly still be here!"

The various bones that began to float to the center of the room told her otherwise, however. They hovered a moment before they began to connect themselves back together, a white light flaring wherever the bones melded together. Within a minute, Nito had reformed himself, only without the robes he'd looted from the Dunmer necromancer. That was burning in the corner of the room.

"You seem unhappy to see me," he deadpanned, relishing how the Redguard's jaw had dropped. She was so stunned that she forgot to spur her atronach onwards, the daedra in question now standing still.

"How?" was all she managed to say. It shouldn't have been possible for the skeleton to reform itself so easily, even if the flame rune hadn't finished it off.

"There is an advanced technique in the Restoration school, that allows one to avoid death," Nito explained, chuckling, "Or in my case, to avoid being dispelled."

"But that technique is something only the experts of the Restoration school can use!" Dark commented from behind.

"Incorrect," said Nito, "A master of Restoration can use it just as well, if not better. I doubt an expert could have pooled his body parts back together so quickly."

"You are a master of Restoration!" the necromancer exclaimed, the irony obviously not lost on her.

"The fact that I could stop a Dremora Lord with wards should have made that obvious," Nito commented, feeling himself to check if he'd sewn himself back together correctly.

"But you're undead!" she argued, the battle seemingly long-forgotten, "You aren't supposed to be able to heal with Restoration!"

"Why not?" he asked, "My bones can mend just like any other's. Teachers of the art simply say that based on the intuition that the gods would not heal us 'wicked' undead. Such untested assumptions can be very misleading."

"I have certainly never healed my risen minions," she pointed out.

"Well, I have certainly never healed my minions, either," he offered, "But as you can see, I can certainly heal myself."

"Minions?" she asked, "Why would you have minions? Unless you mean these three bloodsuckers with you."

"It is clear you've no idea whom you speak to," he let out an exaggerated sigh, "I am Nito, the forgotten general of Potema, the only skeleton amongst her vampiric elite!"

"A general of Potema?" she exclaimed, the reality of the situation dawning upon her.

"Incredible!" Dark lauded, "I knew it was right for us to call you lord."

"What say you now, Redguard?" he offered, "Bind me to this world, and I can help you conquer this land, no, all of Tamriel!"

"I am not convinced, Nito," said the Redguard, regaining composure, "You may have been the general of the Wolf Queen, but her time is long past. Only fools with no true strength hold on to past glories."

"Your dog is slain," Nito gloated, "I have defeated your Dremora Lord and survived your flame rune. Surely, you cannot say I lack the strength."

"As I said, I am not convinced," she repeated, "I have one last line of defense. My magicka is otherwise expended. Defeat me, and perhaps I shall submit."

"Very well," Nito consented. He was a bit annoyed, but he needed her power. Still, it was easier said than done. He faced a frost atronach. It was sturdy, immune to frost spells, and it was far bigger than he was. The greatsword had vanished back to Oblivion with the daedra, leaving him without a weapon that could harm this construct of ice. He refused to believe it impossible, however.

He didn't have much more time to think before the hulking being of frost charged him. He managed to dodge without a problem, simply running out of the way as it crashed into the wall, relatively unscathed. He could easily run circles around it, he knew, but he still needed to damage it somehow.

"You can do it, Lord Nito!" encouraged one of his new subordinates. He couldn't tell which. They were useless here due to knowing only ice and blood-draining spells. Neither of which were much use against a frost atronach.

Dodging the spear-like appendage of the daedra, he caught sight once again of the summoning circle with its soul gems. He doubted those had actually been used by the Redguard in her summoning of the Dremora lord. They were small, but perhaps, just maybe, they held a way for him to fight back. He slid under the atronach and grabbed a gem. He could tell instantly that the soul belonged to a horse. Useful, but not right then.

He grabbed the next and found something a bit more suited to the situation- a scamp. These lesser daedra had only one thing going for them- they could throw fireballs with the ease of an adept in the Destruction school. He got some distance between him and the frost atronach before holding the soul gem to his mouth, the soul of the Dunmer leaving his system, to be replaced by the scamp's.

The Dunmer soul vanished, of course, not finding a large enough container nearby. It was unfortunate, but sadly necessary. The black coloration of the soul told him that the soul he'd taken did not grant the ability to hurl balls of flame, which was unfortunate, but the ability to call someone who could.

Easily running behind the charging frost atronach again, Nito cupped his hands before his mouth, as though whispering, as the black soul was expelled from within him, landing as a puddle of ectoplasm on the floor. The puddle began to form into a ghostly scamp, with what looked like a goat's hind legs and a demonic torso on top. Nito obviously wasn't much of a conjurer, but he'd used souls like this before, and knew familiars like this could last over a month before dissipating. He bitterly thought of how that was actually longer than he had if he couldn't be bound soon.

"What's this?" the Redguard looked upon the scene with curiosity, "An odd conjuration."

"Bombard the atronach!" Nito commanded, and the ghostly daedra did as told, sending a barrage of small fireballs at the atronach. The bigger daedra raised an icy appendage to block the blasts, but its arm simply melted off. It was able to prevent most damage to its body, however

The scamp sent out some more fire balls, although less than the previous set, and the atronach howled deeply, its body beginning to melt from the heat. Nito saw this as his chance. He rushed forward and began wailing on the melting atronach using his bare fists, its icy body softened by the heat. Chunks of ice flew from the atronach, its "head" shattered to pieces. Nito's fists were damaged with every strike, but he easily healed the damage to himself, until the atronach was nothing but a half-melted torso and a pair of legs.

Finished, he walked towards the necromancer, who was now applauding him, knowing her magicka was now dry. He stopped a few feet in front of her and demanded again, "Bind me to this realm."

"Why?" she asked, wary.

"To fulfill the designs of Potema," he said.

"The objective of Potema was to make her son emperor," she countered, "That man is long dead. You lie, skeleton."

"Bind me," he said again, impatience growing.

"Tell me why you want to stay in the mortal realm first," she persisted.

"You kidnap people and perform dark experiments," Nito said, raising his voice, "And yet you shudder at the thought of ruling Tamriel?"

"Let us be honest," she said, "I will not be the one in charge."

"Oh, but you will," Nito said, "You will be the one sitting on the throne, loyal

subjects fulfilling your every command, if only you will allow me to serve you."

"I might be the queen or empress or whatever else in your story," she said sharply, "But we both know that I will be the true servant, a mere marionette for you. I refuse to be a puppet!"

With that, she pulled an enchanted elven dagger out of her pocket, lunging at Nito, who blocked her with a ward. His vengeance came in the form of a hard slap to her face, which knocked her to the floor. Gazing down at her, he threatened, "Last chance, Redguard. Bind me to this world. Submit."

"Or what?" she mocked, looking at him fearlessly, which was quite a feat.

An idea sparked in Nito, then. There was an easier way for him to get what he wanted. It was so simple that he could've hit himself for his short-sightedness. He lifted his right foot and stomped on the necromancer's neck, with enough force to choke her without snapping her neck.

"W-wait I..." she began to plead, but Nito would have none of it. She'd had her chance. Now they would do things the hard way. Well, hard for her. Within minutes, the necromancer's body gave away from lack of air, and Nito lifted his foot off of her. He turned to his vampiric servants and said, "I assume you can raise the dead yourselves?"

"Of course, Lord," said Shroud, picking up on his idea. She focused for a second and released the familiar blue light of reanimation from her hand. The Redguard woman rose slowly from where she laid, a blank expression on her face. Nito quickly ripped off her hood and the top portion of her robes, the rest of it falling to the ground and leaving the woman in her small clothes. Nito observed she had rather short hair underneath the hood, and was not repulsive by any means. Nito donned the hood and semi-robe, covering his shoulders and head. It was very similar to what he used to wear back in the day, if a bit short.

"Bind me," he commanded, but more gently now, directed at Shroud. The girl then mentally ordered the Redguard to bind the skeleton to the world for eternity, but without the part of the spell that bound him to the caster. The zombie necromancer did as instructed, the familiar blue light hitting Nito and ensuring he would be staying, even if the caster expired. Then, he noticed something on the floor that piqued his interest.

A black soul gem had fallen from the woman's robes, and Nito picked it up. It was empty, but Nito decided that was likely a good thing. Now he had somewhere to store human souls. He extended his hand before the Redguard woman, and her soul, a red orb, escaped to his palm. Examining it, the soul allowed him to tap into a Redguard's adrenaline rush, which was absolutely useless to someone who never tired, anyway.

He took the soul and handed it to his scamp familiar, who devoured it eagerly. It seemed a fitting punishment, in Nito's mind, to the wretch of a woman. Now soulless, the Redguard body crumbled to dust.

"Let us depart," he said, already turning towards the door, his scamp at his heels, with the rest of his little party following behind.

It was night outside, the day long over. Nito pondered what to do next if he wished to establish dominion over Tamriel. He would first need a sizable army, of course, and he would need to eradicate forces that could prove troublesome to him. Still, with no true necromancers in his group, it would be difficult to amass a formidable force. Vampires with no training in necromancy were, after all, limited to a single thrall in their service. He didn't have the patience for all three of his followers to learn necromancy. Even with three of them, he doubted that they could control the number of undead Potema once did, and even her forces were insufficient in the end.

"What of those zombies you mentioned?" he asked out loud.

"The draugr?" Dark offered, "Mindless, uncooperative. Whatever force controls them is no friend of ours."

"We shall see," Nito said, "Where can we find these draugr?"

"In crypts, of course," said Dark, "There are closer ones, but unless we want to drown in draugr, you may want to try Bleak Falls Barrow first."

"Why is that?" Nito asked.

"The Dragonborn recently explored that place," Shroud answered, "And many of the draugr should be unmoving. Should you wish to study the foul brutes without risk, then that may be a good start."

"Dragonborn?" Nito asked, "I thought you said I was the Dragonborn?"

"There can be more than one, Lord," Chill spoke up, "Although it is rare for two to be alive at the same time. But then, you're not really alive."

"Also, it has come to my attention, Lord," added Shroud, the younger Imperial, "That you can take far more than just the souls of dragons. Am I not mistaken?"

"It's true," he nodded, "My ancient technique allows me to take just about any soul from a weakened body."

"Then perhaps you aren't Dragonborn, Lord Nito," concluded Shroud, "For the Dragonborn's ability is said to be natural to him, and limited only to dragons."

Well, Nito couldn't have cared less. Still, he may as well learn as much as he could about the Dragonborn. He was a power to be reckoned with if Nito understood correctly, and may hinder or help him in his vie for power in the future.

"Tell me more of this Dragonborn" he said, more of a command than a request, now that he'd shown his abilities.

"They say he takes the souls of dragons and adds them to his power," Shroud offered, "He seems to be a Breton."

"He takes their souls?" Nito repeated, "You are certain?"

"So the rumors go, Lord," she responded, "I take it you are curious if he takes the souls of anything else?"

"Well, yes," said Nito, "But mostly, I was wondering how he uses the dragons' souls. The one I absorbed seems inaccessible to me."

"The rumors and legends only mention dragon souls," Shroud stated, "But I doubt you two have the same power. Yours is an art, is it not, Lord Nito?"

"Aye," Nito confirmed, glad he had at least one intelligent subordinate, "It is an advanced technique of the lost Mysticism school."

"I see," she smiled, revealing fangs, "It is most impressive, particularly combined with your other abilities."

"You have yet to see more than the tip of the iceberg," Nito said proudly, "With no weapon, little in the way of storage, and few souls at my disposal, my strength is greatly cut."

"You must be impressive indeed, then, milord," commented Chill, who'd been quiet for most of the walk, "What weapon is your preference?"

"Well, I could just tell you," said Nito, "But I would challenge you to conjecture first, based on what you know of me."

He wanted to see how much use he could get from these vampires. Shroud at least proved she had a brain, but the other two had yet to do that. Vampires made for inefficient foot soldiers. They simply had too many restrictions to put up with.

"You wielded that two-handed sword quite well, milord," said Chill, apparently with little thought, "Was that your weapon of choice?"

"Nay," Nito almost laughed, "I find such large instruments cumbersome and unwieldy. They do not play to my strengths."

"Well, you are quick, agile, and resourceful," offered Dark, "Perhaps you favor the bow and arrow?"

"Wrong again," Nito said, "While it is true I was a leader who lorded over the battlefield, such equipment again does not play to all of my strengths. I also happen to be a terrible shot."

"A one-handed sword, then, Lord Nito," said Shroud confidently.

"Correct," Nito nodded to her, "But can you tell me why? It is easy to guess I use one-handed weapons now that I've denied two categories already, after all."

"Well, as my sister said, you are quick, agile, and resourceful," she began, "But you are also a master of Restoration. You use your other hand for spell casting while you slash at your foes."

"Very good, but how did you surmise I used a sword?" he asked, impressed, "It could have been an axe or mace."

"It is because of how you fight," she answered, "Against most opponents, you seem to go for quick, precise kills, which require a fast, sharp weapon. An axe can get caught if you put insufficient force behind it, and a mace does not guarantee a kill."

"Very good," Nito confirmed her observations.

"There is more," she said, "Against larger opponents; you seem to prefer darting around them, waiting for an opportunity, using your Restoration magic to negate any harm that comes to you. This part is simple conjecture now, but I assume that against a skilled foe, you cut repeatedly, making them bleed out. In a drawn-out fight, you can last almost indefinitely while your opponent bleeds more and more, until they eventually die from blood loss."

"Brilliant!" his praise showered her, "I am amazed you could glean so much from watching how I fought."

"Thank you, Lord Nito," she curtsied.

Their party went on, approaching Whitewatch Tower, north of Whiterun. Nito had heard of the city. It became the center of trade after the security of the Companions attracted people to settle around it. That had been long ago, before he was even Potema's general.

From their distance, they could tell the guards were under attack from bandits. Nito grinned inwardly. They'd just found some free equipment. He gestured to his companions and pointed at the battle. The bandits were fools to even try, but they would at least soften up the guards. In less than a minute, the bandits had been dispatched. In even less time than that, three bolts of Reanimation magic revived three corpses, which caught the guards by surprise.

One guard went down immediately to three swords stabbing him in the back. The other three were quick to catch on, however, and began stabbing at the reanimated bandits. It had little effect, as vital organs were no longer vital when you were dead. The bandits each tackled a guard and forced them to the ground with unholy strength. A hail of icy spears pierced both guard and bandit, which was obviously worse for the guards, who were still alive.

It was all over by the time they got there. The guards were dead from bleeding and internal damage while the bandits turned to dust. Surveying the area, Nito picked up an iron sword for himself. Dark took a bow and arrow and Chill grabbed a greatsword. Now he knew why they made those guesses. Shroud hadn't picked anything up.

"No weapon?" Nito asked, curious.

"I walk the path of the mage," she answered, "I specialize in Illusion."

"That may be," Nito said to her, "But illusions do not work on everyone. Sometimes, you need cold, hard steel."

"If my illusions fail, I always have my vampirism," she said, "And if even that fails, no piece of metal will save me."

He had to admit that she had a point. Also, somehow he could tell it was likely that her illusions did almost always work.

They ran then, a party that felt no fatigue, towards Bleak Falls. Nito was eager to learn what he could of the draugr. If there were as many as he'd been informed of, and he could get them on his side, then that would be all the manpower he would ever need. As they rushed up the path to Bleak Falls, however, they heard a series of words being shouted: three words that Nito could make no sense out of, recognizing only the word "force."

**Author's Note: I do love my cliffhangers, don't I? In the future, when this is longer, people will hate me for making so many cliffhangers, preventing them from being productive. Oh, well. Please review! I would love feedback. The next chapters still need revision, for consistency. **


	4. Fire in the Cold North

**Author's Note: Out of curiosity, how many people are actually still reading this? Not getting a lot of feedback, so I assume very few. As I write, there is a 1:1 ration between chapters published and reviews. Makes me wonder, really. Anyhow, hope you enjoy, and please review if you see fit to!**

A ripple of power sent Nito flying downhill, his spine colliding hard with a tree. He heard cracking and suddenly felt quite thankful for his lack of skin- the splinters would have stung very much, otherwise. As he righted himself, he could tell he wasn't severely damaged, since broken bones would have meant he couldn't move. Remembering the situation, Nito sprang into action, glaring in the direction where the force had come from.

A large, muscular human man stood on top of the hill they'd been about to climb. The only reason Nito could tell he was muscular was because of the fact that the man had foregone both armor and clothing for his torso. His chest was as bare as the day he was born, save for an amulet of Arkay that dangled around his thick neck. A pair of iron gauntlets, boots, and a pair of leather pants was all the man wore besides that, actually. Whoever he was, he was a fool, as far as Nito was concerned. His vampires were quick to react, sending spears of ice straight at the man. Surely, with such little protection on him, this battle was over.

Of course, things were rarely so simple. If Nito had face muscles, his face would have displayed shock. His jaw actually slackened a little from surprise, his mouth slightly ajar. A dozen spears of ice had flown through the air, and struck their target true- only, they bounced right off of the large man's skin as though it were made of steel. What was going on, exactly? The man looked almost amused, a wolfish grin on his features, as he stared them all down with red eyes. Against the light of the moon, even Nito could see that the man's short, unkempt hair was a dark shade of red- highly unusual for any kind of human, really.

Questions flooded Nito's mind. The most dominant question was: How in Oblivion did the man's skin resist that many ice spikes with that level of resilience? It seemed rather obvious that this man was a Nord, for no other human race could resist frost so much that they would prowl Skyrim on a cold night bare-chested. He was also the right size for a Nord, and his near-immunity to the ice spikes confirmed it, in Nito's book. The second question was about the force that knocked him backwards. Certainly, it was no feat to knock a skeleton caught unawares back by a few feet. What bothered Nito was the speed and distance that accompanied the ripple of power. He'd never before seen anything like it.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, however, Nito focused on one thing: Nothing should be able to stand in his way when he made his bid for the world. This man needed to be removed from the equation. Gripping the blade he'd looted from the fallen guard, he ran to the man's left, skirting dangerously close to a steep drop. He was dextrous enough for it, however, and lunged at the man with the blade. The man was quick to react, however, despite his bulk, and placed his left arm between the blade and his chest. The weapon was able to penetrate the flesh, as Nito hoped, but not deeply enough. It was far too easy to pull the blade back out, shallow as the wound was. First blood had been drawn, however. What was this man? At least he could bleed- it meant Nito could win in the long run.

The skeleton bended his knees and readied himself to spring again, but his foe shot a stream of flame, stronger than Nito had ever seen, in his direction, forcing him to go on the defensive with a ward. The barrier seemed to sizzle with the heat. Nito was glad it held, as quickly as he had casted it. To his relief, his minions were back in the fight, with the vampires pelting the man with spikes while the ethereal scamp lobbed balls of fire. As expected, the spikes seemed to bounce off, but surely, the impact caused _some_ damage. It was demoralizing to note, however, that the balls of flame the scamp had hurled seemed to cause the man no harm at all. Again, Nito had to ask: What was this man? He was pretty sure Nords didn't resist both frost AND flame.

Still, the attack had been enough to distract the large man from Nito, giving the skeleton the opportunity to strike with several lashes from the iron sword. The cuts were shallow, but the man's chest was now covered in small cuts, blood dripping down his muscled abdomen. The man barked a few more words in the strange language, and a green aura seemed to radiate from his mouth. Whatever it was, Nito seemed unaffected by it. A quick glance told him the vampires weren't, either.

A series of wolf howls sounded in the distance, as if a response to the man's words, however. An Illusionist? It was true that Illusion once had spells for dominating lesser creatures, but such abilities were from long before. Somehow, he doubted the man needed illusions, with his incredible strength. Nito threw that theory out of the proverbial window, going for another slash at the man's face. He had to be softer _somewhere_. The man grabbed the sharp edge mid-swing with his right hand, however, and must have casted a frost spell on it, because he easily broke the sword into pieces. Still, Nito felt he'd gotten sufficient use out of it as he let go of the hilt. The man's arm and chest were soaked in blood, flowing down his body like sweat on a hot day. It was a wonder why the cold didn't freeze his wounds closed.

"One good thing about being dead?" taunted Nito, "I don't bleed, and don't need blood in the first place."

"Ha! I knew you weren't some enthralled corpse!" the man replied in a deep, clear voice, which really disproved the theory about him being a Nord, "You fight far too intelligently. Your movements are a little different, too."

"You're certainly not some run-of-the-mill human, either," said Nito, regarding the man coolly, "The logical conclusion was that you were a Nord, but I have my doubts."

To Nito's surprise, the man seemed to laugh, saying "I get that a lot. I'm actually a Breton."

Well, that certainly explained why spells seemed to bounce off of him. Still, the man's magical resistance was phenomenal. Nito had never heard of a Breton that simply shrugged spells off. There was a first time for everything, however, he supposed, discounting the situation as some anomaly. After all, it wouldn't matter once this man bled to death, like any other mortal man.

"Perhaps it is because you are so huge," Nito said, sounding nonchalant, "May I have your name before I send you to your ancestors, Breton?"

"They call me Kail," the man said, "And you, skeleton, do you have a name?"

"I am simply referred to as Nito," said the skeleton. He was unarmed now, but with the man's injuries, he guessed he needed only buy himself time. The man's wounds seemed unwilling to close, after all. Nito briefly wondered why the fool hadn't simply healed himself.

"Well, Nito," said the man, clearly ready to make his move, "It was nice meeting you, but your stay on this realm is at an end."

Something hard struck Nito from behind, propelling him towards a waiting Kail, who grabbed him with both arms. They looked at each other a moment, a silent glare met by a look of amused triumph. Kail seemed to cast Flames with both hands, Nito still in them. The skeleton's bones began to burn, engulfed in magical flame. The heat seemed so intense that Nito could feel it despite the lack of skin. He was, however, able to restore the broken tissue as quickly as it burned away, using a Healing spell. Kail seemed to have noticed, and decided this tactic wasn't going to work. He instead flung his opponent down the steep drop to his side. Nito was quick to adapt, however, and grabbed onto the ledge by a single hand.

"I am sorry I'm late, my Thane," Nito heard a female voice speak from above.

"That's quite alright, Lydia," answered Kail, "You came in just in time with that war hammer."

This clearly wasn't a fair fight now. Come to think of it, what had happened to his support? They seemed to have vanished when Kail grabbed him.

"Lord Nito!" one of them called form above, "Help! We're surrounded!"

Oh, so that was what happened. That was just great. Seeing no reason to hang around, Nito pulled himself up; once again glad he was so light. He nimbly pounced the woman- a black-haired human wearing steel armor. Unarmed, he only had his own hands to threaten her with, choking her with them. He glanced in the direction his vampires had called for aid and noticed they were surrounded by not only wolves, but bears. He looked at Kail, who'd lost his amused expression, and threatened "Call off your pets or the woman dies."

"I cannot!" Kail said, his voice a bit louder than Nito expected, "I do not directly control them."

So he was simply influencing them? Such an odd power. It didn't really help Nito, however. The woman, Lydia, was trying to struggle, but the lack of air was visibly messing with her head. Nito felt bold, however, despite the fact that the ransom he was demanding for the girl was out of the question. He decided to taunt the large man, just to wipe the smirk off of his face, saying "Tell me why that is my problem."

"Let her go, damned creature!" Kail demanded, his face beginning to scowl with annoyance.

The taunt had, of course, gotten Kail focused on him, and him alone. Kail did not see that his creatures were now killing each other instead of the vampires, their primitive minds clouded by Shroud's Frenzy spell. Kail didn't see the vampires sneaking up behind him, then. Nito had to commend Shroud's intelligence. She'd given him just the opportunity he needed. In a blur of movement, Nito's right hand went from Lydia's neck, to the dagger at her waist, and then back to her neck in a quick slash, slitting the girl's throat. Kail's eyes seemed to widen with sheer hatred, hot flames beginning to form in both of his hands. His casting was halted, however, when six streams of red began to flow from his open wounds to three waiting vampires, a stream for each hand.

Never one to let his followers do all of the work, Nito pounced, dagger in hands, aimed downward. His attack didn't connect, however, as Kail muttered "Force," knocking Nito backwards. The force was significantly weaker this time, however, and Nito was unfazed, simply landing in an unnatural position, with both legs and a hand on the ground while his other appendage still clutched the dagger, prepared to strike.

"Why does _**anything**_ think I can be killed?" Kail yelled, having turned his attention to the vampire women, streams of intense fire shooting from both hands, making the vampires back away. Vampirism had its downsides, after all. Their weakness in sunlight was just one of them. Their flesh also happened to be extremely flammable. As if to prove this point, Chill's arms seemed to have caught fire, as she screamed in pain, fleeing the scene of battle. Nito couldn't really blame her for that, as he watched the woman dive into a mound of snow, the fire dying with a loud hiss.

He could spare no more of his attention, however, as Kail whirled on him with those pillars of flame, which he decided to evade rather than block with his ward. Their intensity was colossal in scale, and while he was certain a pair of wards could block them, using both of his hands, he wasn't so sure he could do it with one. The strategist in him told him that Kail had actually once again left himself open to attack: The flames were so large that he could only barely see the man's silhouette. This meant that Nito, through the fire, flames and smoke, must have been incredibly difficult to see. Kail likely did not see how Nito crawled to the side of the pillars of flame, which now only burned the ground Nito had been standing on. Kail likely did not see as Nito threw his dagger at the man's chest, aimed at the heart.

Even as the dagger struck true and buried half an inch of itself into the man's tough hide, Nito had to wonder: Was there no limit to this man's magicka? Surely, by now, he was running low, but it seemed there was no end to the fire that poured forth from his hands like the water of a newly-broken dam. Rather than focus on the injury, however, it seemed Kail was more interested in hurting him. The beam of fire was quickly redirected, almost catching Nito had he not rolled out of the way in time, using the rising smoke and steam to hide.

"Fight like a man, foul corpse!" challenged Kail.

"Speak for yourself, human," countered Nito, "You certainly don't fight like any man I've fought, either!"

"Shut up!" was Kail's answer, along with another wave of fire, which Nito evaded easily.

Nito knew, of course, that now truly unarmed, and with the human seemingly unaffected by the bleeding at all, he couldn't win if this went on for much longer. Nito then had a brilliant idea. He ran back to where the woman's body lay, using the fire to hide himself, and then called out "She's still alive, you know!"

"What?" Kail cried out, "Skeleton, if you are lying, I will turn you to ash!"

"You're probably going to do that anyway!" Nito shot back, "But will you take the risk?"

"What do you want?" the man asked, rage still tinting his voice, but less than before.

"Allow me and my companions to enter Bleak Falls Barrow and do not follow us," Nito said simply, "Your follower needs medical aid. You seem inept with restoration, so you will need to get her to a healer immediately."

"Why don't you heal her!" the man asked.

"Please," Nito shrugged, "Would you also like me to lie still while you char my bones?"

"Fine!" Kail admitted defeat, "You can go!"

On his command, the flames seemed to vanish, as he stood down. Nito then took the opportunity, running right past Kail, who was walking towards Lydia, at a pace that Nito found oddly slow. They shot each other deadly looks as they passed each other. Nito knew he'd run into this man again, someday, and by then, he needed to be ready to defeat him. After all, even if he could raise an army of undead with which to lay claim to even just Skyrim, what good would that be if this lone man could burn them all to cinders?

That final thought weighed heavily in the skeleton's mind, as he and his party continued on their way up to Bleak Falls, refusing to look back at the battle they'd fled from.

**Author's Note: It is kind of short, I know, but then, this is an odd chapter, and Chapter 5 is right around the corner.** **Please review! **


	5. Pondering

Nevar: This chapter was difficult to write. I ran into problems thinking of what I could do with it without making it boring or skippable. The first draft was just Nito going through Bleak Falls and killing draugr. The present version should be better, however, as it discusses quite a bit about the undead general. Also, when reading, please remember that Nito does not actually know how being a Dovahkiin works. Sharp readers will notice he's wrong about something in the story. That's because I try to write based on what Nito knows. Anyhow, please read and enjoy. I'm actually done with the first drafts of the next... 3 chapters? Yeah. However, they need lots of fine-tuning as I wrote all 8 chapters within 2-3 weeks and the next 3 haven't been... updated. Things like how Shroud, Chill and Dark had different names and Nito had four arms... Yeah, crazy.

"I was not aware that this Dragonborn was a monster," Nito said quietly, staring into the campfire they'd relighted.

"Nor was I," said Shroud, who was tending to Chill's burns.

The party had escaped Kail without much damage. The Dragonborn, on the other hand, had a dead woman on his hands. Nito hadn't told him the woman had about a minute left to live. It mattered not if he found out. Nito had purposely told him they were going to Bleak Falls so the Dragonborn would think the skeleton was trying to trick him. He suspected this would actually be the last place Kail would check.

"We need rest, Lord," said Dark, who'd finished looting the dead bandits. They'd died long before the party had arrived. It seemed Kail had been here before, like the rumors said.

"Of course, you do," Nito said, standing up, "Rest here while I explore the ruins."

"Is that wise?" Shroud cautioned.

"I'm just here to greet the draugr and see if they're willing to be under new leadership…" Nito responded, not really answering the question.

"I didn't even know the draugr had a leader…" Chill muttered.

"Unless their leader's primary objective is to 'wait patiently until a man-shaped monster comes and burns us all,' I doubt they have one, Chill," Shroud said teasingly.

"Shroud, tell me something," Nito began, staring once again at the fallen bodies, "Are you sure the Dragonborn that came through here was Kail?"

"If rumors are to be believed, then yes, Lord," Shroud paused for a moment, apparently thinking.

Nito could believe that Kail had been through here. The fact that the man was nearby already told him that Kail had explored the area at least once. Still, the bodies were rather fresh for ones that were 2-weeks old. It might have been the cold preserving them, but it was the fact that the bodies could be intact after Kail was through with them that threw the general off.

"From our brief skirmish," he began, forming his sentence in his mind, "Wouldn't you say that Kail is a little over-fond of fire magic?"

"That might be an understatement, Lord," said Dark, butting in, "The man is like a walking inferno."

"Ah, you wonder why these bodies are not ashes?" suggested Shroud, asking for confirmation.

She was, as usual, on the right track. It was fascinating how well their thoughts matched. He could certainly see the use in having a second-in-command who thought the same way he did. It would certainly allow him to split his forces and coordinate them appropriately. Not perfectly, of course, but there really was no means of communication that advanced in Skyrim. None that he knew of, anyway.

"Yes," Nito nodded, "The man is not exactly subtle. I expected more collateral damage than this. Far more."

"That is curious, milord," said Shroud, finishing up with bandaging Chill's arm. She made her way to one of the dead bandits and inspected the corpse carefully.

"Find out what you can from these bodies," Nito ordered, "I will be heading down."

Then, a thought struck Nito as he walked down the ruined tunnel- Where the heck was his Scamp familiar? He was certain the thing had survived their encounter with Kail. It was very odd, but of little consequence, he decided. It had probably gotten lost on the way. The locals would put it down when they saw it.

A bit further ahead, there was some sort of puzzle that might've prevented entry into the depths of Bleak Falls. Staring at the stone carvings on the far side of the chamber and the movable statues on the left, however, he had to wonder how ignorant the ancient Nords had been to think such a simple mechanism could keep people out. But, to the general's surprise, the puzzle seemed unsolved. A dead body lay in the middle of the room, punctured by arrows. Perhaps some people really _were _stupid enough not to get this.

But, wait, if the puzzle wasn't solved, then how did Kail explore this area? He stalked over to the opposite end, where a doorway connected this chamber to another one. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that iron bars once kept the next room secure. These same iron bars seemed like something- or Nito, thought more likely, someone- had melted them right off. Any doubt that Kail had been here was quickly vanishing, replaced by wondering why Kail would bother exerting the effort to melt iron when the alternative was so simple. The man didn't seem stupid.

Still, his mind drifted back to the bodies at the entrance- why weren't they ashes, or at the very least, charred? If Kail could bother to use fire to open a very simple gate, he could certainly use it to smoke a few bandits, after all. So why didn't he? At first glance, the man seemed a muscle-headed Nord, and yet that assumption had quickly failed when Kail showed not only a mastery of flame destruction magic, but also an incredible resilience to magic. Withstanding frost spells was something Bretons and Nords had in common, but Nordic blood protected only from the cold sting of their home- not from fireballs, which seemed to have even less of an effect on the man, if that was possible.

Nito descended further into the ruins as his thoughts drifted to his dangerous new opponent. He'd thought the worst of his troubles would be whatever devotees of the Nine were present in Skyrim- but Kail's flame would probably burn him worse than holy fire. The Dragonborn was an enigma – a loose cannon he would need to learn more about before ultimately getting rid of. Perhaps he would send the vampires out to collect information. Nito certainly couln't enter a tavern and ask for the latest gossip. They, on the other hand, looked mostly human. He wondered if he could trust them. He had a feeling Shroud would be loyal to him even when unsupervised. The other two… not so much.

He'd continued his trek, mostly lost in his thoughts, which somewhat undermined the purpose of his exploration. He was only shaken out of his contemplation when he saw something moving in the darkness. He was, of course, able to see perfectly well even in the absence of light, and so the draugr shambling forward had essentially no chance of getting the jump on him. He decided it was as good a chance to try as it ever would be, stating his terms as "Serve me or rot forever in this forsaken hole. Choose."

The draugr's response was a jumble of syllables he could make no sense out of, accompanied by charging forward with their crude weapons. Nito shook his head. That was disappointing. He swept at the legs of the first draugr that reached him using his own legs, causing the corpse to fall over. He then stomped down hard on its face, leaving the head disfigured. He probably snapped its neck, as well. A quick look down told him the draugr wasn't going to get up again. He concluded that they weren't very strong, then.

He picked up the axe the draugr had been using and hurled it sideways into the next draugr, its head coming off of its body. The last one was knocking an arrow and about to fire. Nito just allowed the arrow to fly, bouncing harmlessly off of his ribs, and moved forward. He grabbed the draugr and slammed it against a rack of iron spikes. It could still function, however, and thrashed about, even though its limbs were stuck.

"Pathetic," he mumbled, dodging the obvious trigger that made the iron spikes move.

The draugr continued to shout in its unusual language. The general could swear it seemed familiar, but couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before. Shrugging it off as a mystery to be solved later, he continued further in, slaying many more draugr.

In between battles, he was thinking, his mind processing what ahd happened so far. He began to wonder why he was out here trying to raise an army of undead and taking over Skyrim- no, Tamriel- all of Mundus, if he could, even. Initially, he'd thought he was merely continuing what the Wolf Queen had told him to do. However, the necromancer from before had made an excellent point- the Wolf Queen's goals were long fulfilled and subsequently undone. Her son had sat on the throne, and had been ousted even before Nito slept for centuries. It was impossible to fulfil that now. Did he seek vengeance? Then why dream of a land untouched by life, where the dead ruled for eternity? There would be no need for such a realm once the descendants of all the people who condemned her were extinguished.

It was confusing, and he really didn't know why he did these things. He could have just stayed and served the foolish necromancer that tried to control him with The Ritual, and yet, he felt what he was doing now was right. As if he was being guided.

His mind came back to reality when he saw the remains of a stone door with animal carvings on it. He'd subconsciously wandered into a room with walls that were covered in a mural depicting some ancient Nord legend. He had no interest in old folk tales, but the door stood out. It looked like it had been blown open. He doubted Kail could melt rock, but he had to wonder what had done this. The melted gate from before surely pointed to the Dragonborn, but what about this door? The hole was massive, and easily large enough for even the massive Breton to fit through, but what in the world allowed Kail to break through solid rock?

Behind the broken door was an altar of sorts, with a strange wall-like monument on the far side. Try as he might, once he saw the wall, Nito couldn't pry his gaze off of it. It seemed to be calling him- pounding his skull with a drum-like chant. He crossed a stone bridge and walked over to it, mesmerized. A blue light seemed to shine from the countless carvings in the wall, drawing his attention. The chanting seemed to grow even more fervent, up until Nito was right in front of the strange, giant rock.

Suddenly, the word rang loud and clear in his mind- "Force!" it cried out. Suddenly, the word on the wall lost its light and the chamber remained silent. Silent, that is, except for a pounding sound Nito could hear from behind him. In his entrancement, he'd completely ignored the sounds coming from a casket in the middle of the room. A heavy treasure chest had been placed on top of it, and it seemed whatever was inside didn't have the power to push it off.

"It's fortunate you can't push the cover with enough FUS," Nito commented, but quickly regretted. He'd meant to say "force," but the moment its ancient counterpart escaped his mouth, a wave of force rippled out of his mouth and shoved the treasure chest half-way off of the casket. Gravity did the rest. The empty, but heavy trunk fell off of the casket with a loud thump. There was a moment of silence before the lid was thrown violently to the side, an armored draugr climbing out of its grave.

"Armored, larger, entombed separately from the others… Some sort of leader figure perhaps?" Nito pondered, even as the draugr stood at full height and drew its greatsword. Nito suddenly wished he'd grabbed a sword from one of the lesser draugr.

"FORCE RO DAH!" the draugr screeched, a wave of power rippling from its mouth and slightly pushing Nito backwards. What on Mundus was that? It was the same power Kail had used! Come to think of it, the force that knocked the treasure chest over was also similar to Kail's power. Both his and this draugr's were far weaker, however. He needed to look into this, and so, he tried once again, hoping this draugr was more intelligible than the rest.

"Listen to me," Nito began, "We are both leaders of the dead. Let us work together."

The draugr's response was to charge forward with sword raised high, unfortunately. Nito easily sidestepped the attack, turned towards the draugr before it could turn towards him, and rasped "FUS!" causing the zombie-like creature to lose its balance. Nito then tackled it to the ground, pushing off from it with his hands as it started falling down to keep himself on his feet. Once the draugr was down, Nito grabbed the lid of the casket. The stone piece was a bit heavy, but if the draugr could fling it aside, Nito could sure as Oblivion lift it. He swung the large cover downwards, striking the draugr, which was on its knees trying to get up. The blow caused it to fall forward again, but it seemed otherwise unharmed. Cursing, Nito shouted "FUS!" at the draugr again to keep it down. He stepped on its back with the stone lid in hand and slammed the stone piece down the draugr's neck, like a blunt guillotine. He did it over and over until the slamming of the stone was accompanied by a crack- the sound of the draugr's spine being broken. Its body stopped struggling then, and Nito relieved it of the greatsword it wielded.

The weapon was heavier than a regular sword, certainly, but not at all unusable with one hand. Seeing as how this seemed to be a dead end, he decided he needed to make his way back up towards the vampires. Looking down at the now-immobile draugr, Nito said "A pity you did not accept my offer." He rolled its head over so it was facing him and opened his palm near it to capture its soul. After all, this one could do whatever it was Kail and himself could do. Perhaps he would become better at it by absorbing its soul. Much to his approval, the soul that pooled in his hands glowed bright orange- much like the one he'd absorbed from the dragon.

Of course! The dragon! That was why the sounds, no, the language the draugr uttered seemed familiar- it was the same as what the giant lizard spoke. This brought up quite a few possibilities. If these words gave power to the dragon, he could only imagine the possibilities this power would give him. A second later, though, his optimism became tainted with its negative counterpart, like the bitter aftertaste of- well, he didn't know, since he didn't have taste buds anymore, but it was something that tasted quite bitter after the first sweet bite. The reason for this metaphorical bitterness? Kail.

The Dragonborn had been active for at least two weeks, according to his vampires. Two weeks was a lot of time to learn a lot of words, especially if all it took was to slay a dragon. He had no doubt Kail could outlast a dragon if the both of them just stood there with the dragon's breath against his flame magic. A dragon was basically a walking source of power for the Dragonborn. Kail would be stupid not to pursue them unless they flew off- which he somehow doubted most of them were smart enough to do. The Dragonborn appeared to be but a man on the outside, after all- easy enough prey for a mighty flying lizard.

He ingested the orange orb and stood still as knowledge worked its way into his mind. The words "Balance" and "Push" were added to his vocabulary. He was amazed he'd gotten two words. The dragon had only given him one. He was about to head back when the thought rang through his mind again- the dragon only gave him one. Was that true for Kail as well? Did dragons only give one? He doubted Kail could even harvest the souls of anything but dragons. That meant he had a chance. Kail may have slain more dragons, but Nito could take power from more than just dragons. The alternative was far easier to defeat, too.

He stalked back up the way he came, taking his time. He doubted it was evening already, even as bad as his sense for time had gotten. When you were dead, after all, you didn't need to remember when dinner time was or when you needed to sleep or bathe. It was easy to lose track of it. Vampirism at least had somewhat of a silver lining- they needed to feed, and thus, didn't lose sense of time too badly. To him, however, a day could have seemed like a minute if he wasn't keeping track.

Once the vampires were up, he needed to tell them how they would split up. Perhaps he'd send Shroud to the North, while the other two headed East and West. To the South, there was only Falkreath, and he doubted there was much information to be gotten in such a remote place. It was incredibly far away from the capital, after all and-

"Faithful servant, come to me."

"Who's there?" he asked, scanning the area, only to find nothing.

"Come to my catacombs in Solitude."

"Lady Potema? How are you alive?" he asked, but somehow doubted she could hear him.

The voice was silent after that, leaving Nito alone and baffled in the darkness of the ruins.

Nevar: I hope you liked it. Next chapter will be up as soon as I remove all instances of Nito having four arms.


	6. A Peek Beneath the Shroud

**Hello, dear readers. I apologize for the slower updates. Honestly, probably going to keep this pace from now on. I have a lot of things on my plate, fortunately. Part of this chapter will be different from all the others. I wonder why. Also, as much as I want to paint the scenes more with words, I've always found that part of the reason I like writing Fanfiction is that the setting is something people can already imagine. I don't need to tell you that Bleak Falls is a ruin situated on top of a snowy hill, for example. That said, I try to keep the focus on the story, instead. It's going to bite me in the butt, someday, though. Anyhow, hope you enjoy, and tell me what you think.**

"Get up," Nito commanded the sleeping Vampires. The fire they'd gathered around had died long before the day was over, leaving only embers. A quick look outside had revealed to the skeleton that the sun had gone down. It was about time. He'd gotten back to the entrance during the afternoon, but knew it was pointless to wake them before sunset.

"Just five more minutes…" mumbled Chill. Nito's response was to kick over a nearby empty treasure chest, causing a loud thud, which in turn made the vampires snap to attention.

"Good evening, Lord," greeted Shroud, "I see the negotiations didn't go so well."

"No, no, they did not," he muttered darkly, "Which is why I have a task for the three of you."

The two Imperials and the Nord perked up at this, and gave him their full attention. Inspecting the three of them, he noticed slight scowls on the lips of the two older vampires. He needed to be wary of those two. Shroud had a genuine look of interest on her face, though. It was a shame that he was mostly giving them this task so he could be rid of them for a while.

"I have been dead for centuries, as you know," Nito began, "And the three of you, while somewhat informed, are not fully aware of what is happening around Skyrim. If we are to rule this realm, we will need to have better intelligence on a few key topics."

He paused to see their reactions, and noted that Chill and Dark were scowling even more now. Perhaps they figured out he was up to something? No, knowing them, they probably just didn't like the idea of going far away to gather information. Shroud, on the other hand, seemed to be thinking about something, if her rubbing her chin and staring into space was any indication.

"These topics are, in no particular order: the civil war, the dragons, the presence of other undead in Skyrim, and lastly, the Dragonborn," he said, counting them off with his bony fingers.

"Then we will be splitting up, Milord?" asked Shroud, seemingly having already pieced together what he wanted them to do.

"Precisely," Nito answered, "Chill will go West, Dark will go East, and you will gather information in Whiterun."

"What about South and North?" Chill asked.

"Falkreath is likely of little importance;" Nito said patiently, "And Solitude is simply too far away if we are to reconvene here in two weeks."

"Not true, Milord, I'm sure I could get to Solitude and back in about two weeks…" Shroud began to protest, but was cut off when Nito raised a hand to stop her.

"Between the center of Skyrim, the Western border, and a town built on secrets, we will have more than enough information," he said simply, in a manner that made his words sound like fact, and thus, difficult to argue against.

"And where will you be during this, Milord?" asked Dark, suspicion in her voice.

"I will be checking up on old friends of mine, to see if any are willing to join us," he answered, in the same manner he'd rehearsed before he'd woken them up. It was inevitable for that question to be raised, after all, "This is about all I can do since I can't exactly walk into a tavern and ask for the latest rumors."

He wasn't exactly lying. He really was going to see if any of the other servants of Potema had survived. Of course, he wasn't sure _he_ was going to come back. If Potema was back, he knew all too well where he needed to be. The four members of the living dead left the ruins shortly after that, with no more protests rising from the vampires.

"By the way, Milord, you might want to have this," said Shroud, holding up a leather pack. She'd probably looted it off of one of the bandits.

"Excellent," he said in thanks, "This should help me greatly."

With a final bow, Shroud ran down the stairs in a hurry. Dark and Chill took a much more casual pace, but headed in the same direction. It was obvious their enthusiasm for this task was not what it should be. Sighing, Nito grabbed the last soul gem he had left- containing the soul of a horse- and ingested its contents. He donned the pack Shroud had provided him, empty as it was, and turned left, facing a stone platform that ended in a long fall to the ground. He tensed himself to spring and jumped off, taking the short way down.

**-minutes later-**

"Well, well, ain't this a surprise…" a male orc wearing hide armor muttered, as Shroud approached a small tower they hadn't noticed on the way up.

_Bandits._ Shroud wasn't fond of bandits. They had a tendency to kill travellers who could have been her meal on multiple occasions. The orc had yet to unsheathe his weapon, likely owing to the fact that she had neither a weapon nor anything she might be keeping valuables in. In fact, all she had were the clothes she wore- a pair of boots and a black, strapless dress. Anyone who didn't know her true nature would be doing alright not to suspect her.

A silent Detect Life spell showed her that there were three bandits in all. There were two others in the tower, an archer on the first floor, and another warrior at the top. The one on the top seemed to be asleep. This was a simple enough task for someone of her ability, however.

She used her Voice of the Emperor power, inherent to Imperials, and started talking with an enchanted voice, "Please, I'm cold, and I don't think I can last the night outside."

The orc was eyeing her up and down, making it quite obvious that any help he was going to give her wasn't going to be free. Shroud had a slim figure, not at all meant for seduction, but being both a Vampire and an Imperial was an Illusionist's wet dream. She had so many ways to addle the mind that it almost seemed unfair.

"Sure, sure. You have to be willing to pay, though," he said, laughing, his eyes never leaving her dress. Shroud made a mental note to thank the gods later that she wasn't born an orc. She didn't think she could live with the lack of any subtlety whatsoever.

She walked over to him slowly, pretending to be numb from the cold. She even tripped on purpose in front of him, so she was looking up at him on her knees. The orc was about to reach down when a female voice came from the tower.

"Thogg, what's taking so long?" called a female Bosmer, who was the archer she'd spotted. She couldn't determine the gender from her Detect Life earlier because it was so hard to tell whether an elf was male or female.

"Keep your pants on!" the orc called out, "I just found us tonight's entertainment! Hahaha!"

"What are you doing?" the elf called out, drawing her bow, "She's-"

"Cold, and going to die soon if you don't help me," she said, milking the Emperor's Voice power for all it was worth.

"Exactly!" the Wood Elf said, marching out and helping her to her feet, "Poor thing."

The orc snorted and went back to looking for any lost travellers. Hopefully, the next one would be either rich, or be better endowed.

The female Bosmer brought Shroud into the tower. It wasn't a huge improvement. She handed the vampire some cold bread, as well as a cup of water. It must have been a while since these guys had robbed anyone who actually had money, judging from the food they ate.

"This is an odd place to have a Bandit camp," Shroud commented, knowing the woman was still under her influence.

"Yes, well, we used to stay in Bleak Falls," the woman answered, trying to start a fire in the corner of the room.

"Oh, really?" she tried not to sound too interested, "And why did you move out here?"

"Well, two weeks ago, a man came to the ruins," she said, staring into the newly-started fire. Her eyes seemed to be staring further away, however, into the past. Shroud already knew who the man was, but she kept quiet. Perhaps the Bosmer could shed more light on the situation.

"We were on watch outside the ruins when he came," she said, "The three of us were behind a pillar. The man was huge, with hair that looked like blood against the white snow."

"H-he walked up the steps slowly, paying no mind at all to the arrows that were pointed at him," she went on, "When he refused to give up his belongings, the others fired. The arrows just bounced off of his bare chest, like they'd struck a rock or something."

"He actually seemed surprised when it happened, like he didn't know he could do that," her recounting of the event continued, "He seemed eager to find out what else he could do. H-he grabbed John and threw him away like a doll. We heard his body hit something hard below."

"He went inside, after that," she said, "I wanted to stop him, but George and Thogg held me back. They said we didn't stand a chance."

Shroud wasn't entirely sure she could believe the woman. Despite the fact that the Bosmer was being compelled to tell the truth by her Voice of the Emperor power, it didn't prevent the woman from mixing truth with exaggeration and superstition. The woman describing Kail being surprised by his power was intriguing, however. Did that mean that Kail did not possess such power until only recently? Regardless, she had found out all she needed. The woman served no purpose now.

"You poor thing," Shroud seemed to echo, rubbing the Bosmer's shoulders. She wasn't sure who was older, but the vampire definitely looked younger, which made the scene rather unnerving. Her body looked only sixteen years old, after all.

"I- I just wish I'd fought with them instead of rotting here in the cold," she stuttered.

Shroud planted a light kiss on her neck, before baring her fangs and digging in. The woman's eyes were wide with shock, but that was about as much of a reaction as she would be able to muster. She sucked the blood as quickly as she could, revelling in the sweet taste of blood. The woman would be drained in less than a minute. Just then, however, a Nord male came down the steps, yelling "We've got trouble! Some adventurers coming down from the Bar-"

The man froze mid-sentence when he laid eyes upon his comrade being devoured by the vampiress. Shroud dropped the woman, who still had blood, but not nearly enough to stay alive, and stared at the Nord, blood still dripping down her chin.

"You monster!" the bandit screamed, before pulling out a two-handed axe and then charging at Shroud.

Shroud frowned. She was almost done. The plan had been going without a hitch, too. What idiots alerted the bandit leader and ruined her scheme? She hadn't wanted to expend any more energy than she needed, but it seemed she had little choice in the matter. She couldn't raise the dying Bosmer yet, since she was still barely alive, but she could still use her other powers.

She used Embrace of Shadows to vanish from sight. The invisibility lasted quite a while, so she decided to hide and let the bandits and the adventurers kill each other off. A pained howl from outside told her the orc was down for the count. The Nord seemed to decide the adventurers were the bigger threat, and rushed outside. Shroud followed him silently, and was dismayed when she saw the faces of these "adventurers."

"Can't believe we missed these bandits on our way up," Dark said, after draining the orc Chill had killed.

"Yeah, but at least we get to eat," Chill said, draining the blood of her fellow Nord.

Shroud should have known. Dark and Chill might as well have been muscle-headed orcs, considering how they operated. Chill, she could understand, with her being a Nord. Her sister, however, was an Imperial, too. With a body seven years older than Shroud's, you would think she'd use those full breasts to get an easy meal. She mostly either just shot things or ordered them around, though.

Shroud left the tower in a hurry, before her Embrace of Shadows wore off. She made it a point to step on the rocks and logs instead of the snow. She didn't feel like talking to Dark right now. Her sister would probably claim her life had been saved and how she was stupid for getting captured, as always. Oh, how Shroud secretly detested Dark for looking down on her. While she admitted Dark was still older, the difference was relatively much smaller now that they were going to live forever.

However, she would have the last laugh. When this land was Nito's, Shroud would be his right hand, finally in a position befitting her power. To that end, she quickened her pace. She needed to learn more about those matters of interest her lord had discussed.

**-Meanwhile-**

Meanwhile, Nito was already nearing the town of Morthal, thanks to the speed granted to him by the horse soul that now dwelled within him. The rough terrain was no problem at all for him. He'd just hop from tree to tree whenever walking proved too slow. The idea of grabbing a few deathbells from the marsh kept nagging at him, because he did love his poisons, but he knew he needed to get to Solitude as quickly as he was able.

However, when the town came into view, he saw that several houses had been set ablaze. The smoke had gone unnoticed in the thick of night. Morthal was lit up like the sun setting into the horizon, casting radiance that somewhat obscured his night vision. Surely enough, however, the cause of the fire was still around- a dragon. The skeleton was torn between leaving and staying. If the dragon fell, he'd have scored himself a free soul, and thus, a new power, but if it didn't, he'd have wasted time here. The guards were unrelenting with their bows and arrows. They shot at it whenever it dove in to strike. In the end, what seemed like hours passed as Nito watched silently, perched on a tree. The dragon finally fell from the sky after taking down what must have been half of the Morthal guard.

The great beast crashed quite a distance from the town, apparently deciding at the last minute to escape. When Nito reached it, the creature was still breathing, but it seemed too battered to move. He jumped down to the ground and drew the sword he'd taken from the Draugr Overlord. He'd lodged it into his chest, having nowhere else to store it. He approached slowly, ready to put up a ward in case the creature tried to burn him.

The dragon opened its mouth, but instead of flame, it seemed this dragon breathed frost. But, if this dragon breathed frost, then what was it that set Morthal on fire? He cast his gaze away from the dragon, and back towards the town, where the villagers were trying to put the fire out with buckets of water. A silhouette seemed to walk forward, larger than most men. Was it him? No. Impossible. Why was he here?

Kail, the Dragonborn, was moving towards where the dragon had fallen. Kail the Dragonborn was moving towards where Nito now stood. The general knew he could not best Kail right now, especially when he was alone and the Morthal town guard would most likely aid their champion. However, Nito could still spite him. He quickly finished the dragon using the sword, and siphoned its soul out of its body. Unlike how it happened with the Dragonborn, Nito's technique left the bodies of his victims intact. Nito quickly ingested the orange soul and waited as a new word revealed itself to him. "Frost." Having consumed the soul's knowledge, Nito put the Horse soul back in and made his escape. If he kept his pace, he would be in Solitude before noon.

Minutes later, Kail howled in rage when he realized the dragon he'd spent hours to kill was now without a soul. His howl was accompanied by a flash of light, which burned even more brightly than the town of Morthal. On the following morning, the Morthal guards found no trace of the dragon they'd slain, nor of the part of the woods where it had fallen. In fact, all they found in the area was ash and charred earth.

**What? No cliffhanger? Yeah, it seemed inappropriate for this chapter. I am planning to write this story from the point of view of other characters in the future, as well, as soon as I've included someone interesting enough. Kail is out of the question, though. His thoughts are pure evil (his thoughts are spoilers.)**


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